


Lambert first, Forktail later

by galactic_roses



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Choking, Comfort Sex, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Oral Sex, Sparring, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-27
Updated: 2019-07-27
Packaged: 2020-07-23 00:18:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,302
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20000860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/galactic_roses/pseuds/galactic_roses
Summary: Eskel notices that something is wrong with Lambert when Lambert and Geralt return from their job, and he decides to take Lambert’s mind of whatever is bothering him.





	Lambert first, Forktail later

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to lovely beta readers Zemyr and @Aliens both from a witcher discord server I’m in :D

When Lambert and Geralt returned to the keep, both of them completely ignored the dark-haired, scarred witcher sitting at the heavy wooden table by the hearth. That wasn’t particularly unusual, but something about their posture made Eskel turn in his seat to look at them properly. The thundercloud on Lambert’s face spoke more than either of the two men as they walked inside. Taking a swig from his wooden tankard, Eskel watched Lambert move aimlessly into a far corner of the keep, while Geralt made a beeline for the tower that housed the world’s crankiest sorceress (at least in Eskel’s opinion). His mouth twisted at the thought of the woman. Though Geralt had tried to change his opinion, he had always held a deep dislike for Yennefer of Vengerberg. 

He shook his head. Geralt would be busy swooning in the arms of his sorceress, so Eskel had something a bit more pressing to think about. The way Lambert’s eyebrows had been meeting in the center of his forehead when he entered the keep worried him. Finishing his drink, he pushed away from the table and got to his feet, before following the scent of the keep’s youngest witcher into a corner of the kitchen, where he was looking at a shelf and pretending to be busy.

“What do you want?” Lambert snapped when Eskel approached. Eskel didn’t take his tone personally, choosing instead to ignore him for a moment and scratch the stubble on his chin. He needed to shave soon.

“I never said I wanted anything,” he said after the pause. “How was the trip up to The Circle of the Elements?”

Lambert’s expression darkened before he looked down and turned away, back to the shelves he had been pretending to browse.

“Was fine,” he muttered, suddenly subdued. Eskel felt a twinge of anxiety at Lambert’s words, but smothered it as soon as it appeared. He stepped forward until he stood side by side with Lambert and looked at him, seeing the lines around his eyes deepen. Lambert needed to get out of his own head.

“Well, this morbid schtick is boring already,” Eskel announced, trying to sound as irritatingly cheerful as he could manage. Lambert’s head snapped up, furious, his feet shifting into a fighting stance. Eskel raised his hands in mock surrender.

“Wanna take this out to the courtyard?” Eskel continued, stepping back from the other man, hands raised. “You can hit me there.”

Lambert stormed outside, Eskel following him with a cheerful whistle. He was so easy to bait.

A minute later, Eskel found Lambert warming up in the courtyard, a fierce glint in his amber eyes as he swung the heavy wooden blade. He stalked from side to side and never took his focus off the approaching man.

Grinning, Eskel began to strip his outer layers and toss them aside, feeling the cool mountain air against his skin. He picked up a wooden training sword and tested its weight. It was a bit warped, but it would serve.

“Why the fuck are you looking so pleased?” Lambert snarled. Eskel shrugged. “Well, I can’t wait to wipe the smile off your face, then.”

“Square up, fuckface,” Eskel taunted, raising the wooden blade into a guard position. Lambert raised his own blade into a slightly altered stance. Vesemir had been their first and most thorough teacher, but their paths had diverged after their training, and they had developed different fighting styles along the way. As if in silent agreement, they began to circle each other, feet tracing a path their bodies knew by heart, it was second nature to them now.

Lambert was the first to attack. He lunged forward and swung his blade in a downward stroke that Eskel only barely managed to parry. Reminding himself that Lambert was a trained and seasoned witcher, not just a sulking friend, Eskel refocused and let Lambert take the offensive. He parried and dodged, maintaining his defensive position, and waited for Lambert to let off some steam. For a while, only the whistling and clattering of their blades and the sound of heavy breathing filled the courtyard.

Eskel’s arms began to tremble a little, and he could see sweat rolling down Lambert’s forehead. He had no intention of letting Lambert actually win, so he decided to make his move. It took time and patience to maneuver his opponent into a favorable position, but would be worth it if Lambert’s anger clouded his judgment just enough… Lambert struck again, but just before the blow landed, Eskel’s trained eyes saw the tiniest opening, and he took the chance. His wooden blade snaked up and Lambert lost his grip on his sword with a wordless snarl of fury. Grinning triumphantly, Eskel hooked a booted foot around the back of his opponent’s ankles and jerked, dumping Lambert onto his rump, then leveled his sword at the man’s nose.

“Had enough?” Eskel asked, panting slightly. Baring his teeth, Lambert reached out and yanked on the training blade, pulling Eskel down. Eskel let himself fall and blocked the hands going for his throat, entertained by his opponent’s blatant disregard of the rules of training combat, and the two witchers began to wrestle ferociously, the swords forgotten. They were closely matched, with Eskel being slightly stronger, but Lambert fought as dirty as he talked. He managed to pin Eskel for a moment, but Eskel finally shoved him off and pinned him down instead, catching a wrist in each hand. They both looked down in the moment of silence, and Eskel noticed something that made him chuckle. There seemed to be a significant bulge between the man’s legs, straining against the cloth of his trousers. Lambert swore violently and spat in Eskel’s face.

“Brat,” Eskel growled, managing to flip Lambert onto his front and hold him down with one hand, using the other to wipe the saliva from his cheek. Lambert squirmed, but he had been worn out, and he couldn’t turn himself back over with Eskel’s palm planted firmly on the small of his back.

“Give up?” Eskel asked, his voice taunting. Lambert let out a grunt and wriggled feebly against the ground. Watching with interest, Eskel saw a dull flush creeping up Lambert’s neck. Eskel chuckled.

“Fuck… off,” Lambert grunted, turning red.

“Why are you blushing?” Eskel taunted, noticing Lambert’s hips buck a little against the dirt. That friction must be feeling pretty good for such a strong reaction, Eskel thought, deeply amused. This wasn’t exactly what he had planned, but he didn’t mind. There was more than one way to blow off some steam.

“Get the fuck off me,” Lambert said as he finally flopped down, defeated only for the moment. “This is embarrassing.” 

Eskel raised his eyebrows, shifting his weight until he had a hand on each of Lambert’s wrists again. He straddled Lambert and sat down on the small of his back to add pressure and keep him from rutting against the ground.

“Not nearly as embarrassing as it could be,” Eskel murmured, bending until he could speak into Lambert’s ear. He felt the other man freeze. “To think,” Eskel continued, shifting his weight backwards until he sat on Lambert’s tight buttocks, feeling how Lambert tensed up under him as he spoke, “Geralt, or Yen could come out, or maybe even Vesemir…”

Lambert wriggled again, only succeeding in rubbing his butt up against the hard bulge in Eskel’s trousers, and his skin turned a deeper shade of red.

“Get… off!” he gritted, his voice sounding mortified and angry in equal measure. Eskel laughed, letting the hearty sound rock through his chest and into Lambert’s body. He moved slightly, just barely grinding himself against Lambert’s ass.

“If you ask me nicely, I might consider it,” he replied softly. Lambert choked, writhed, then stilled, seemingly thinking. Eskel waited, not even trying to keep the smile off his face anymore. Lambert was horribly predictable sometimes. He had been defeated, they had both shown some sort of interest, and now all he had to do was wait for Lambert’s libido to veto his pride. 

“Fuck… Alright, you win. Please,” Lambert finally said, his voice muffled in the ground. He stayed face down in the dirt for a moment after Eskel got to his feet, then pushed himself up.

“No one will be upstairs,” Lambert muttered, not looking Eskel in the eyes as he straightened. “C’mon.”

________________________________

A small puff of dust rose from the coverlet when Eskel dropped onto it, reminding him of yet another reason why they usually slept downstairs. He heard Lambert shut the door behind himself and cast a Quen sign on the lock.

“Your control has gotten better,” Eskel commented, pulling his shirt over his head. Lambert turned around, only a shadow of his earlier anger showing on his face.

“Why are you doing this?” he asked, almost pleadingly, finally meeting Eskel’s eyes. Eskel returned the gaze, keeping his own eyes level. For a brief moment he saw something that looked almost like pain in the other man’s face.

“You looked like you needed a distraction,” he answered simply. Lambert stared at him for a moment, then he reached down. Eskel watched as he palmed the bulge in his pants, his hand shaking.

“A distraction could be useful,” Lambert admitted, sounding as if each word cost him dearly. They’d had a similar conversation only once before. It was decades ago, only a few years after they had set off on the Path. A difficult contract had brought them both to the same town, and they had run into each other in the local tavern. Lambert was wearing the same expression as he had been earlier, his brows drawn together across his forehead, and Eskel could easily remember how Lambert had reacted to his proposition back then. He’d had the bruises to show for it for days afterwards. Seemingly calmer than he had been so many years ago, Lambert yanked his shirt off, walked over, and dropped to his knees in front of Eskel.

“I guess you haven’t forgotten after all,” Eskel murmured, watching Lambert’s nimble, scarred fingers undo his pants.

“I don’t have fucking amnesia,” Lambert snapped, taking Eskel’s hardening cock in his hands. “Of course I remember.”

“Could’ve fooled me.”

Scowling, Lambert began to stroke his fingers over the head of the growing erection in his hands, making Eskel buck up to meet his touch. He spat into one hand and rubbed it over the sensitive skin, earning himself a low moan from Eskel. Eskel watched Lambert for a few moments where he knelt, stroking Eskel’s cock. The man’s pupils shrank, then dilated wide, and he learned closer, clearly focused on his hands, but Eskel wanted more. Reaching out, Eskel grabbed the back of Lambert’s neck and pushed him down so the head of his cock bumped against the crease between Lambert’s eyebrows, leaving a streak of moisture. 

“C’mon, coward,” he grunted, “use your mouth.”

The angry noise Lambert made at Eskel’s words was suddenly muffled as Eskel gently applied pressure to his grip, pinching the man’s neck muscles until he gasped and pushing head down before he had time to think. The slick warmth engulfing his cock made Eskel moan. With so many people around it had been hard to find time to take care of himself as often as he usually did. It had been too long.

Blunt fingernails dug into the cloth covering Eskel’s thighs as Lambert bobbed his head up and down at Eskel’s urging, his furious amber eyes glaring up at the other man. Amused, Eskel held his heated gaze and pushed down even harder, holding Lambert down on his cock for a long moment before letting him go.

“Fucking asshole,” Lambert snarled, pulling back and wiping his mouth on the back of his hand. His eyes widened slightly as Eskel leaned down, grabbing his jaw in one large hand.

“Tell me you don’t enjoy doing that,” Eskel whispered, his hold tight enough to bruise. He felt Lambert grit his teeth, jaw muscles flexing, but the man didn’t reply. “That’s what I thought. Now come here.”

Eskel got up, pulled Lambert to his feet and reached down to undo his pants. The cloth fell to the floor with a soft thump, and Lambert stepped out, his erection bobbing with the movement.

“Like what you see?” Lambert asked, striking a dramatic pose, a hint of a grin appearing on his face. Eskel let out an undignified snort and dropped down onto the bed, scooting himself backwards until he could lean against the headboard.

“Shut up and come suck my cock,” he said, trying to smother the laugh bubbling in his throat. To distract himself, he took himself in one hand and began to slowly pump his fist. A ripple of anger crossed Lambert’s face, but he walked over and climbed onto the bed, knocking Eskel’s fingers out of the way.

“Demanding bastard,” Lambert grumbled, leaning down to take the head of Eskel’s erection in his mouth again. Silky hair met Eskel’s touch when he grasped the back of Lambert’s head, bucking his hips with the rhythm of the other man’s movements. Stroking the softness, Eskel loosened his grip and watched Lambert swirl his tongue around the tip of his cock, biting back a moan.

“Is there oil somewhere up here?” he asked, pulling himself out of Lambert’s mouth and slapping his slick length against the man’s cheek. “We’re gonna need it.”

“Try under the pillow your ass is on,” Lambert growled, wiping spit off his cheek and sat back to get out of cock-slapping reach. A moment later, Eskel handed the tiny bottle to him, a wicked grin stretching the scars next to his lip. 

They both watched the stream of oil spill into Lambert’s cupped hand, then he reached out and slicked it over Eskel’s erection, taking his time with the motions. When he was satisfied, he slid the hand between his own thighs. His eyes popped open in surprise as Eskel grabbed his arm and hauled him forward, crushing his lips to the skin just below his jaw and biting down none too gently. Lambert yelped, pulling back and shifting until he could kneel on either side of Eskel’s thighs.

“You’re a fucking asshole,” he snarled, rubbing the spot that Eskel had bitten. Chuckling, Eskel wiggled his hips, making his cock bounce around.

“You should be worried about your own asshole,” Eskel replied, his hands sliding up to grip Lambert’s waist, his fingers dimpling the pale, scarred skin. “Shouldn’t you be preparing yourself?”

The irritable growl that left Lambert’s throat just made Eskel chuckle. There was heat in that growl, but it had nothing to do with annoyance. 

“Fuck that, and fuck you,” Lambert growled, lowering himself down until the tip of Eskel’s slick cock was pressed against his entrance. “You’re not even that large. I bet any women you manage to seduce can’t even…” he gasped, sliding lower with aching slowness, “feel it! Fuck!” 

Lambert gasped for a moment, his ass pressed flush against Eskel’s hips, his eyes glassy and unfocused. Eskel was surprised and pleased that Lambert had managed to take his entire length, and he ran his hands over the man’s scarred thighs, letting him adjust for a brief moment.

“I’d say that was hitting a bit below the belt,” Eskel grunted finally, enjoying the sensation of silky warmth clenching around him, “but I think that’s a bit too accurate at the moment.”

Lambert opened his mouth to make a snarky reply, but Eskel had other ideas. His hand shot out and clamped around Lambert’s throat, cutting off most of the man’s air supply, and Eskel watched with amusement as he mouthed soundlessly, seemingly too shocked to protest. A flush of red crept underneath Eskel’s fingers.

“Now I need two hands to fuck you properly,” Eskel said, tightening his grip slightly until Lambert grabbed his wrists, “so I’m going to let go, and you’re going to behave.” He released his grip and thrust hard, causing Lambert to let out a low whine.

“I’m not gonna fucking behave,” Lambert growled, his nails digging into Eskel’s chest as he rode Eskel’s thrusts. Eskel grasped Lambert’s hips and grinned

“Yes you are. Now, touch yourself.”

“Hardly a high order,” Lambert retorted, reaching down to stroke his cock with an oily hand. He moaned deep in his throat and jerked, precum dripping onto Eskel’s stomach. Eskel could feel his body tightening around his length, and he knew that Lambert was getting close. 

“Now, come for me,” Eskel whispered, the air harsh in his lungs, and Lambert shuddered at the words, his body stiffening. A second later, he grunted, his release spurting onto Eskel’s chest, leaving a sticky trail of white. Panting hard, Eskel pulled out and pumped his hand around his own cock as Lambert let himself fall back on the bed, wheezing and out of breath, looking thoroughly fucked as his ass clenched over and over. Eskel watched as Lambert slowly regain his senses and look around, then his gaze landed on Eskel’s hand. His eyes hazily followed Eskel’s movements for a moment, then pushed himself back up.

“You’re bad at this,” he huffed, pushing Eskel’s hand away again and taking over. Eskel sighed with relief and propped himself up as Lambert stroked his hand through the cum trickling down Eskel’s chest and wrapped his hands around Eskel’s cock, the moisture adding to the filthy, slick sounds as Lambert set a punishing pace. 

Eskel didn’t mind. He watched, letting the pleasure surge in body, his muscles contracting. Ecstasy peaked, sooner than he liked, and he grabbed the pillows that by now had to be beyond saving as he jerked his hips, cumming hard into Lambert’s free hand. He took a deep, gasping breath, slowly gathering his scattered mind.

“Thanks,” he panted, offering Lambert a rag he’d found by the side of the bed. Lambert looked at the rag for a moment, then took it and wiped his hand without complaint. They stayed there for a few minutes, letting the afterglow of their orgasms bathe them in warmth, then Eskel sat up and moved to the edge of the bed so they sat side by side. Lambert’s face had relaxed somewhat, his eyebrows moving back toward their normal position.

“Feeling better?” Eskel asked quietly, taking the rag from Lambert’s limp hand to wipe himself off. 

“A bit, yeah. You’re still a dick though,” Lambert said. Eskel smiled a bit at the predictable reply, and watched as Lambert looked down at his hands, taking a keen interest in the calluses on his palm. He did not look up as he continued. “Talking to Geralt just brought back some things I’d rather forget.” 

“Makes sense,” Eskel said, inspecting his own hands. “He has a habit of accidentally bringing things up sometimes, doesn’t he?”

“Yeah.”

They sat for another few minutes in silence, each lost in their own thoughts. Eskel finally stood.

“Well,” he said, buttoning his pants, “I suppose I should go get started on that forktail before Geralt gets to it.”

Lambert opened his mouth as if to reply, then shut it and stood. Eskel raised his eyebrows.

“Thanks,” Lambert mumbled, moving to retrieve his own pants. 

“No problem,” Eskel replied, and since the awful frown had not made a return, he chanced a quick taunt. “It’s good to know I can still beat you in a fight, anyway.” 

Lambert glowered at him as Eskel neutralized the Quen on the lock and cast one final grin over shoulder before trotting downstairs, humming to himself. 

That forktail had no idea what it had gotten itself into, coming this close to Kaer Morhen. Eskel intended to show it where it had erred, in only the most polite way possible. With silver.

  
  
  
  
  


  
  



End file.
